Whiskey Lullaby
by The Writer0214
Summary: Tittle says it all. A songfic for Tommy and Kimberly. A bit disturbing and AU. Adam and Kat's POV. Oneshot. I hope you enjoy! Please R&R!


_She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette  
She broke his heart he spent his whole life tryin' to forget  
We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time  
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind  
Until the night  
_

She had done this to him, before. She already had. This was the second time. Tommy Oliver could remember it very clearly. All the memories of that day he got that letter (I remember that, too. In fact, I was the one who had to read it for him) came rushing back to him. Tommy and Kimberly forgave each other, found closure, slowly got back together, and a couple years after his tour of duty as the Black Dino Thunder Ranger, he and Kimberly had married. And now, she had done it again? How could she? Tommy had always loved Kimberly, but this time... This time, the pain was too great.

Tommy had come home, that night, to find Kimberly in the arms of another man. It felt like being put out like a cigarette. He spent his whole life trying to forget. And now, this?

"Kimberly?" Tommy said, unable to believe his eyes, "Who is this guy?"

"Tommy, I—" was all Kimberly could say.

The former Ranger glared at the man, pointing a finger at him.

Then, he looked down, shook his head, sadly, packed his bags and stormed out of the house.

"Tommy! Tommy!" Kimberly screamed, as she followed him out of the house, trying to explain.

Tommy was deaf to her pleas, as he furiously drove down the driveway, and onto the street.

"Come back! Tommy, please... Let me explain," Kimberly said, barely above a whisper, as she slumped onto the front porch, crying; her face buried in her hands.

Kimberly's lover touched her shoulders to pacify her and comfort her. Kimberly stood, whirled around and slapped him; the force of it sending the man reeling.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Tommy battled with depression for weeks—even months. At first, Rocky and I had thought that he would be quite easy to deal with. After all, it was a ski trip that got his mind off of Kimberly. We thought it would be worth a shot.

As it turned out, he couldn't get her off his mind. It got worse after the divorce. Tommy was drunk every night.

But he couldn't get drunk enough to get over her.

_He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger  
And finally drank away her memory  
Life is short but this time it was bigger  
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees  
We found him with his face down in the pillow  
With a note that said I'll love her till I die  
And when we buried him beneath the willow  
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby_

Three years later...

"Yo! Toad! Hurry up! We wouldn't want to keep the girls waiting, now, would we?" Rocky hollered, as he rushed out the door.

Rocky, Aisha, Tanya, and I were going on a double date. It was also the night Rock and I had decided to propose to our respective girlfriends. We were going out for a celebration. Little did we know that the night's celebration would turn into tomorrow's tragedy.

"Hey, Tommy?" I asked, nervously.

"Whasssaattt?" Tommy said with his usual drunken slur (which was characteristic of him, now).

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay, here? I mean..."

"Sure," he replied with a loud burp, "There's beer in the fridge! I'm okay! There's NFL on TV!"

I wasn't convinced. I was having second thoughts on going out, that night, and was debating whether or not to cancel our date.

We were caught between a rock and a hard place, here. If we went, Tommy might do something to himself, while we were away. If we stayed home, the girls would be disappointed. Rocky would be disappointed. I didn't want to disappoint my best friend, my girlfriend, and one of the best childhood friends I ever had. I was happy for Aisha and Rocky, and I wouldn't want to disappoint them by cancelling our date. But neither did I want to see Tommy hurt himself. And there was a big chance of that happening while we were away.

I wish I had listened to my intuition, instead.

______________________________________________________________________________

We came back from Nino's at around midnight—all four of us. As we turned the corner, Tanya spotted some A.G.P.D. squad cars outside our apartment, and a crowd of curious passersby. I looked at her—worry written all over my features.

"Tommy," we both said in a shocked whisper. Rocky, Tanya, and I quickly got out of the car, rushed to our rooms on the second floor, and were stopped by A.G.P.D. detectives.

"Excuse me! Excuse me!" I hollered, frantically, "Officer! Let us through!"

"This is official police bus—"

"Look," Rocky said, angrily, "You picked the wrong day to mess with me, lace-face! Now, I know I can get arrested for that. But that's our friend inside. Tommy. We live here."

The detective was about to cuff Rocky and then relented. Removing the yellow tape on the door, he let us in.

"What happened, Detective?" Tanya said, her journalistic instincts kicking in.

"We're leaning towards suicide. There are hints that point us in that direction," came the detective's reply.

"But can't suicides be faked?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, the perp might've shot him, then placed the gun in Tommy's hand to make it look like a suicide, and he gets away."

"We've looked into that. Seemed plausible. Occurred to me, too. But it doesn't add up. We still think it's suicide."

"When exactly did this...happen?" I asked.

"At around 11:00, we received a call from a hysterical neighbor, screaming 'somebody had been shot.' "

"Detective?" a female officer called from the room Tommy slept in, "We found something."

We all rushed to the room, but the detective stopped us.

"Stay there."

"But he's our friend," Rocky said, his voice cracking.

"That's insignificant, right now. Stay there, or stay out."

I could see Rocky was seething. And so was I.

"It's a suicide note, Detective," the female officer said.

______________________________________________________________________________

Before Tommy was placed on a gurney, we had a clear picture of the room. Blood was on Tommy's headboard, on the walls, the pillow, the mattress, on the nightstand, everywhere. Rocky couldn't help it. He broke down and left the building. Before the paramedics took Tommy's body, I caught a glimpse of Tommy's note. It read, "I'll love her till I die."

______________________________________________________________________________

Angel Recreational Park.

We were forbidden by some officials and watchdogs to bury Tommy near the lake where he and Kimberly had first kissed. It was his final wish. Not far from the lake was a willow tree. He made us promise to bury him under that same tree if he died. And I was not about to let him down. Luckily, my dad, being a government official, had many contacts. And because of those contacts, they let it slide.

And so, we buried Tommy beneath the willow.

We were there. Tommy's adoptive parents, Tommy's adoptive siblings, David, Tommy's biological twin brother, Sam Trueheart, Jason, Billy, Rocky, Justin, Kat, Tanya, Aisha, and me. There was also Andros, Ashley, Karone, TJ, Carlos, and many others.

We buried Tommy beneath the willow.

_  
The rumors flew but nobody knew how much she blamed herself  
For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath  
She finally drank her pain away a little at a time  
But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind  
Until the night  
_

It had been two years after Tommy's death. Adam and Tanya were happily married, by now, and so were Rocky and Aisha. We had already forgiven Kimberly for what she did, but she never forgave herself. We had heard rumors, but we girls refused to believe it. No one ever knew how much Kimberly blamed herself. She was the picture of a crane with broken wings.

We knew she had been drinking. Drinking to ease the pain. Drinking to cover the guilt. Drinking to punish herself. Drinking to get Tommy off her mind.

We had seen the symptoms. It was the same thing Tommy went through. The same stages. The barhopping, the binge drinking, the compulsive buying, the lying, the temper tantrums... No matter how hard she tried to hide the whiskey, we knew.

Tanya called me, that day. I picked up.

"Kat, it's me."

"Tanya? What's up? What's going on?"

"Aisha and I were just thinking—maybe we could have lunch together. You know, our girl thing. Then, we could check up on Kimberly."

"You're right. Let's do that. I'm really worried about her," I said with a sigh.

_  
She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger  
And finally drank away his memory  
Life is short but this time it was bigger  
Than the strength she had to get up off her knees  
We found her with her face down in the pillow  
Clinging to his picture for dear life  
We laid her next to him beneath the willow  
While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby  
_

We brought Kimberly something to eat, then went to see her, after lunch. We got to her place at 1:00 in the afternoon. We rang the bell, but nobody answered.

"Maybe she's sleeping," Aisha said.

We rang the doorbell, again. No response.

We called out to her. Nothing.

We knocked on the door. Nada.

We banged louder.

Finally, losing my patience (and with fear creeping into my thoughts), I took out a Swiss Army knife, and pried the door open.

"What are you doing?" Tanya said, shocked, "You could get arrested for that."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," I said.

"Kimberly?" Aisha called.

"Kim!" I said.

"Kimberly!"

"Check upstairs," I said to Tanya.

______________________________________________________________________________

Silence. Then, a scream. It made my heart stop. Had my suspicions been right? Kimberly killed herself!

Aisha and I rushed up the stairs, and found Tanya standing in the doorway. Unmoving. Dumb. Silent. Stunned. She was rooted to her spot.

"Kimberly," I said, my voice catching in my throat.

There she lay, in bed, face down on the pillow. There was a bullet hole on her temples. She held a Glock 9mm in her right hand, and she was clutching Tommy's picture—their wedding picture—close to her heart. She wouldn't let go of the picture. It was as if she was hanging onto it for dear life.

I took my phone from my purse and speed-dialed Jason.

"Baby?" I said, my voice catching, yet again.

"Yes, Babe?"

"Baby?" I was crying, now. Then, I could say nothing more. I just cried and cried on the phone. On the other end, I could vaguely hear Jason say, "Oh, God!"

______________________________________________________________________________

Even though Kimberly was unable to forgive herself, we had already forgiven her. We buried her beside Tommy, beneath the willow.


End file.
